


Forged in Thunder

by symsonic



Category: Baseball RPF
Genre: Gen, loosely inspired by an old kiss song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22205887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symsonic/pseuds/symsonic
Summary: Mets pitcher Noah Syndergaard carries a keepsake aluminum bat with him, engraved with ornate and intricate decorations on its surface. Towards the hilt, something is engraved in old Germanic. Reporters who constantly hound Noah for its meaning are often met with him changing the subject or flat out refusing to answer.When asking his teammate and friend, ace Jacob deGrom, he simply shrugs. "I guess he takes the Thor character seriously."
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	Forged in Thunder

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sarcasm_and_sabres](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcasm_and_sabres/gifts).

> Think of this first chapter as a little trailer. 
> 
> I am soooo sorry it took four score and seven years to get this to you. *sob*

Citi Field, 8:07PM

The starry night sky blankets the stadium in its warm summer embrace. The New York Mets are once again at bat, with two outs. Not that it mattered for them. They were up by 7, at the bottom of the 8th. The entire team was on cruise control at this point. In the dugout, various Mets players were casually chatting away, seemingly ignoring the action on the field, until the noise of a crack of the bat brings their attention back to the game.

Sitting on the far end of the bench was Noah Syndergaard, the starting pitcher for this particular game. He completed his outing, with only allowing a single run for seven innings. He takes a deep yawn, as expended a majority of his energy for the night, as he watched the remaining game. He rests his arm on the railing of the dugout, letting out a deep, relaxing breaths as he lets his remaining stress exit his body.

“Gonna crash early tonight?” A familiar voice chimes. Noah turns around, and sees his rotation mate, Jacob deGrom, with his usual cheery demeanor. “You look beat.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Noah emits another yawn. “I think I just need a cup of coffee.”  
  
“At 8 o’clock at night?”

“It’s fine.”

Jacob rolls his eyes and sits next to Noah, also resting his hands on the guard railing. His eyes dart between the game and Noah like an excited child. He completed his start the previous day, with an equally impressive outing. After a few moments of watching the game, Jacob asks a question. 

“Do you ever get bored of this?”

The question sort of took Noah off guard. Especially Jacob of all people. “What?”  
  
“Of _ this. _Out of all of the lives and paths we could have chosen, we’re here.”

Noah rests a hand on his face, mulling over the fact. He then shrugs. “Whatever they will of it. If we’re here, its for a reason.” Jacob slightly frowns. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for, but knowing Noah, it was the only answer he was going to get for the time being. 

deGrom looks back to the game. “I guess so.”

The crack of the bat lightens up the night and causes both the crowd and dugout to erupt in joyous roaring.

\---

It didn’t take much long afterwards for the Mets to win the game. After a few minutes of joyous shouting and cheering, the players return to the clubhouse, with Noah and Jacob slowly making their way back as well. Both men enter the locker room to celebration. This was the team’s third consecutive series victory, as spirits were extremely high at the moment. Noah and Jacob navigated the crowd and blaring music to Syndergaard’s locker. He pulls up a metal chair and takes a seat, with Jacob leaning on his locker, seemingly unphased by the commotion around them.

Noah immediately took a few moments to let out another yawn, turns around to look at the crowd one last time before beginning to pack his things and head off. Any other time, he’d be with his teammates celebrating, but tonight? His body felt drained. That performance took it out of him. Noah figured it would be a good idea to slip away unnoticed before the reporters came in wanting to ask him a million questions he had neither the time nor patience for. 

It was then that he noticed something peculiar. 

His keepsake baseball bat began to vibrate slightly, and glow with a soft iridescent sheen. It wasn't MLB grade -- due to the fact that it was both aluminum and engraved with ornate glyphs. His teammates thought it was a gift from a bat company going along with the "Thor" image. He stared at it for a few moments before using some dirty clothing to hide the thing. However, Jacob also noticed apparently as he looked back to Noah, a frown across his normally cheerful lips.

“Do you need my help?”

Syndergaard shook his head. “Nah. It’s … probably some spectres or something. I’ll take care of it.”

“Alright then. I’ll leave you to it.” Jacob waves and walks back to his own locker. Noah buries his face into his hands. This meant he was gonna have to stay until everyone else left. 

_ Great. _ He thought to himself. _ Now I’m gonna have to come up with some bullshit for SNY to use for their interviews. _

_ \--- _

It felt like it took longer than usual for everyone to disperse, or it could have been Noah’s temper gets the best of him. Robinson Cano, tied up his dress shoes before getting up from his seat. He turns to Noah, with a soft and tired smile. 

“The last one again huh?” He asks.

“Yeah.” Noah responds.

“Try not to stay too late man.” Robinson turns around and heads for the door. “Take care, and I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Thanks, and I’ll see you.” That last bit warmed his heart a little.

His teammate leaves and now its just Noah Syndergaard in the silence. After taking a brief moment to take in the peace, he removes the clothing covering the bat and holds it in his hand. It was still gleaming with that otherworldly light, although the vibrations quelled slightly. Noah gets up, with bat in hand and leaves the locker room. 

He wanders the corridors for a bit, with the bat’s vibrations seemingly getting stronger or weaker. He finally got a feel for the bat and trailed down the inner workings of the stadium, with his makeshift radar getting stronger and stronger. Noah eventually comes across a large clearing, with some freight trucks. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, Noah twirled his bat around, seemingly bored of this goose chase. It’s not until he hears the scurrying of feet to the left of him. Immediately after he hears them to the right as well. 

He scoffs. Not of arrogance but of a tired man who is just amused by his string of bad luck.

“This is how you want to play it?” 

Noah remains still in the middle of the clearing, as the shadowy figures emerge, revealing themselves into the light. They were hunched over, couldn’t be any taller than five feet. They didn’t seem to have a corporeal form, as they appeared to smoke-like -- although Noah was certain he heard the pitter-patter of feet. Claws extruded from both their hands and feet, and glowing red eyes emerged from their would-be faces.

Six of them surrounded the pitcher as he continued to twirl his aluminum baseball bat, seemingly unphased, and unimpressed. 

“Spectres? That’s all?” He smirks slightly, and stops twirling his bat. As the creatures take another step forwards, he points the bat at one of them, which seems to make all of them stop in their tracks in fear. 

“I’ll make this quick.”

Noah raises his bat into the air, almost as if he was summoning something. He looks up at the ceiling. There’s a twinge of worry in his brow. He knew he wasn’t supposed to be doing this indoors of all places, but he really didn’t have a choice. Without a second of warning, a lightning bolt slams into the stadium, piercing the hull of the ceiling, and hitting Syndergaard’s bat. 

A bright light engulfs the entire scene, blinding even the shadow creatures surrounding him. As the light dissipates, they behold something completely terrifying to themselves.

The bat has transformed into a hammer, runes etched onto both sides. A short stilt and handle, wrapped with aged red cloth. Holding it was no longer a man, although he took the appearance of one. Electricity glided up and down his forearm, his upper arm, his upper and lower body. His eyes glowed with the spark of lightning, as his brilliant blond hair shown in the light. 

Noah lowers his now-hammer and readies in an attack position. The creatures regain their composure, ready to attack. With a single motion, Syndergaard lunges forward at one of the monsters, primed to strike lightning.


End file.
